A Firstday Carol
by Faeruy
Summary: Written For A DAWC challenge - Write a Holiday fic.  Diana Hawke is Scrooge in this Kirkwallian retelling of A Christmas Carol
1. Stave 1

**_A/N:_**_ This was written for a Dragon Age Writer's Corner Challenge; to write a Holiday Fic. I decided to go with the oh-so-popular version of a Christmas Carol and set it on Firstday, the New Year's of Thedas. If you want to see other holiday fics, go to the DWAC forum, in the challenges and prompts section. Brilliant writers, all of them. I don't own any of these characters, Bioware built the sandbox that I play in. Also of course, thanks to Charles Dickens, who's masterpiece I'm desecrating. Pleaseread and review, I'd love to know what you think!_

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><p>Anders was dead to begin with. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. Diana Hawke had done the deed, held the knife to his throat, watched his blood run red on the pavement, so what else could there be? Anders was dead as a doornail.<p>

Diana Hawke was alone now; the Champion of Kirkwall, and now the Viscount was a hard, bitter, and cynical woman. Men and women avoided her gaze in the streets, children cowered in fear from the person who's accomplishments made her the most infamous leader in the Free Marches. And that suited her just fine. She preferred to go through life unmolested in the streets, and dealt very little with the problems of the people below her.

Once upon a time – it was Firstday Eve – Diana was busy in the office of the Viscount's Keep going over the latest budget allotments. The room was freezing cold, for Diana no longer cared for the vagaries of weather, and she didn't want to spend precious money trying to heat it. The only other person in the room with her, in fact the only person in the whole Keep was her manservant Bodhan Feddic. He shivered and shook and stayed as close to the lone lamp as possible.

"Happy Firstday, coz! Maker bless you!' exclaimed a happy voice. It was Charade, Diana's cousin; a pretty brunette girl made even prettier by the healthy pink glow in her cheeks, a result of her exercise in the cold. Diana made a sound of disgust.

"Come on, you don't really mean that." Charade coaxed.

"I do. Happy Firstday? What right have you to be happy? You and Gamlen are still in Lowtown aren't you?" The Viscount scowled, and Bodhan took the opportunity to exit the room.

"So? Why are you so angry? You're in Hightown aren't you?" she countered. Diana only grunted in reply. "Don't be so mean, cousin."

"What else can I be, when I live in a world like this? Everybody's problems fall to me, they all want my money and my time. Firstday is the worst of all, and why? What's Firstday to you or anyone but a time for finding yourself a year older, and the world getting worse? And everyone expects me to care, and to do something about it. I tell you, I don't."

"Diana! You really can't be serious. Firstday is a time for hope, for looking forward to the future and a new year. It may not make us rich, but it rekindles our resolve and our dreams. We all need a day to hope, Maker bless. You do too. Come on, dine with Gamlen and I tomorrow." Charade beseeched her obstinate cousin.

"No. Good afternoon Charade."

"I don't understand why you hate me so. It's not like I ask you for money."

"Good afternoon." Diana's voice was firm. Charade took the dismissal for what it was and left Diana with a sigh. The angry Viscount turned back to the paperwork on her desk when she was disturbed by a cough from her manservant.

"What is it Bodhan?"

"Aveline and Sebastian are here to see you, messere."

"Show them in. I suppose I must see them." The guard captain and the exiled prince entered the chamber, shivering involuntarily at the sudden drop in temperature. Diana remained seated.

"Hello Hawke." The redheaded guard spoke first, standing at attention. Diana nodded once, ignoring the lack of title, and Sebastian cleared his throat.

"Hawke... Viscount... it's Firstday Eve. As you are no doubt aware, we still have a large number of refugees, from both Ferelden and from Starkhaven. We were wondering if you would like to make a donation to a Chantry fund that would provide them with some cheer." Sebastian's face was passive, but his eyes glimmered with a small hope. Aveline next to him looked a bit skeptical.

"I'm sorry, is there something wrong with the provisions in Refugee Law that I put forth?" Diana asked snidely.

"No. It provides them with what they need, of course, but it being Firstday, we thought you might want to make a personal donation... engender goodwill among the people. You being from Ferelden..."

"No." Diana said, holding a hand up to stop Sebastian. "I don't need your speech. I've done what I can for the refugees. If they want more, they can work for it."

"But..." Sebastian started to say, but a glance from Aveline made him subside.

"Sebastian, Diana has made her position clear. Good day Hawke." Aveline took the flabbergasted priest by the shoulders, and steered him out of the room. Diana was left alone with Bodhan and she turned her attention towards him.

"I suppose you'll want tomorrow off, then?"

"Yes messere. I haven't been as good a father to Sandal as I would have liked; it would be nice to spend the day with him."

"And what will I do without you?" Diana smiled sardonically; if it was a jest she was trying to make, it fell completely flat. Bodhan opened his mouth, a pleading look in his eyes. Diana sighed and waved him away before he could speak again. He removed himself from her office, presumably to take care of some last minute chores. Diana looked at all of the paperwork piled up on her desk. Too much to do, and too many interruptions. She decided to go home and come back in the morning. Nobody would be here tomorrow, maybe she could get some actual work done then. She left the Keep, and went out into the cold evening air, without even throwing on a cloak. It was not a long walk to her mansion in Hightown, but it became interminable with everyone wishing her a happy Firstday. She was very happy to see the door of her home, and the large knocker that had Anders' face on it.

Now that was odd, for the knocker never had Anders' face on it before, at least not to Diana's knowledge, but there was no doubt that the mage was in the middle of her door. She blinked rapidly, and the phenomenon was gone; it was a normal knocker once again. She must just be tired. She pushed her way inside with an irritated grunt, and then slammed the door behind her.

The slam echoed all over the the empty mansion. Inside was dark and cold; there were only a few lights left on by Diana's servant Orana; who had long since departed for her own Firstday Eve celebrations. Diana made her slow and careful way up to her bedroom suite, extinguishing lights as she went. Her room was slightly warmer than the rest of the house; there was the remnants of a fire, and beside the chair there was a cup of cold tea and stew left out by Orana. Diana slumped down, and drank the weak tea slowly. She picked up a half-open book and started to read by the light of the dying fire. As it crackled and spit, the rogue found herself drifting off, the book slowly dropping to the floor.

A loud noise made her sit bolt upright. Diana's heart palpitated as the clanging and banging continue for what seemed like hours, though it may only have been a few seconds. It seemed to be coming closer and closer.

"No..." Diana whispered to herself. "I won't believe it." All of the color drained out of her face when it passed through her door before her eyes. The dying flame flared up suddenly, illuminating the face of the ghost, and subsided again.

It was him. Anders; his blond ponytail, the Tevinter robes, just a hint of scruff on his chin. But he wore a metal chain; unlike anything he'd ever worn before. It appeared to be made of swords and daggers; helmets, gauntlets and boots, most stamped with the image of Andraste. He was also transparent and fuzzy looking, like he was still partially in the Fade.

"What... what do you want with me?"

"Much." It was Anders' voice, unadulterated.

"Are you Anders?" She had to ask. She still didn't quite believe it.

"I _was_."

"Was, then." Diana said, raising an eyebrow. "Picky, picky, for a shade."

"You don't believe it's me." The ghost said simply.

"Not really, no. I've seen a lot of things, Anders. You know I have. Walking skeletons, revenants, demons of all sorts, but a spirit such as you? Never. I think I'm asleep, or that there was something in the stew to cause such visions." Diana said with far more bravado than she felt. "You can't really be here."

With that the ghost of Anders shook his chain horribly and moaned. He stretched out his neck, revealing a thin line across it that even in death still seemed to seep blood. Diana fell out of her chair and onto her knees.

"Do you believe in me now? I still bear the scar you gave me!" He moaned horribly.

"Yes!" Diana cried. "I do. But why Anders? Why?"

"A warning. You see this chain I bear?" He gestured to the laden cable around his waist. It was long, and dragged behind him like a tail. Diana nodded slowly.

"It is representative all of the souls I've stomped on, all of the people I've hurt and killed. Mine's is relatively short; for I was a healer; but as you can see here my sins against humanity far outweigh what good deeds I did. Now my sins weigh heavy on my soul, and I know no peace."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"Hawke, yours is much longer than mine. You have been responsible for just as many troubles as I, with even less good deeds done in your name. And it's gotten even worse since my death. And believe me Hawke, this chain is heavy and burdensome, even in the Fade. This is a fate that no one should bear. But you're not dead, Diana, you can be better. You still have that chance."

"How, Anders?" The Champion of Kirkwall was practically pleading with the ghost.

"You will be haunted by three spirits."

"More?" She sighed resignedly. "I think I've just had about enough of spirits and ghosts. No offense Anders."

"Without them, you cannot hope to change your ways. Expect the first tomorrow night at midnight."

"Couldn't I get over with all at once? I'm a busy woman."

"No. Expect the second on the next night, and the next the night after that. You won't see me again Diana; but remember what has passed here." Anders said, pointing at her. She became aware of a low howl in the air, joined by incoherent screaming and wailing in an unholy symphony. Anders listened for a moment, then suddenly flew out the window. Diana followed him; there, dancing about, were so many spirits and Fade demons flying about the air. Within moments, they all crossed the Veil again. Diana felt much shooken up, and could not sleep for a long while. She crawled into her covers and shivered.

"Bah." She tried to think to herself, but fatigue overcame her nerves and she was asleep with the thought half-formed.


	2. Stave 2

Diana awoke to find her room as dark as a tomb. Not a scrap of light pierced the blackness. In the distance, the Kirkwall clock had just begun to chime. It struck seven before Diana started to notice the oddness of the hour.

"That's not possible. It's far to dark to be morning, and I can't have slept through a whole day!" The clock continued to chime slowly; eight, nine. Diana untangled herself from her bed and ran to the window. It was quiet and still on the street. Ten, eleven.

On the stroke of twelve, the door to her room flew open. A waifish figure burst through the frame, glowing with a strange aura. Diana was momentarily blinded by the sudden light, but her vision soon cleared and the spirit became distinct. It was an elf, with short black hair that contrasted greatly with her pale skin. Huge green eyes seemed to glow brighter than anything else around her.

"Merrill?" The spirit did indeed bear a strong resemblance to her old companion, down to the Dalish tattoos on her face. But Merrill was never so translucent.

"No. I am the Spirit of Firstdays Past"

"The long Past?" Maybe this was some spirit of Arlathan, the first civilization of elves, and not Merrill at all.

"No. Your past." Well that made no sense.

"Tell me spirit, why do you resemble Merrill?"

"For your comfort. My countenance is frightful too look upon and would not be conducive to your reclamation." It even spoke with Merrill's brogue; the imitation was perfect. It held out one pale white hand. "Come" the spirit said. Diana looked at the delicate wispy hand with skepticism. The spirit waved it again impatiently until Diana placed her own hand in it. Merrill's hand was strangely solid, and she led the rogue to the window and stepped out. Diana paused.

"I am no dragon, Mer... I mean Spirit of Firstdays Pasts. I cannot fly."

"Keep holding onto my hand, and you shall keep aloft." Diana was not entirely sure she believed someone so transparent, but she squeezed her eyes shut and took a step out of the window. And another. She opened her eyes, and sure enough she was standing far above the ground.

"Come." the spirit giggled. "We have much to see." Before Diana could blink again, Kirkwall was gone, to be replaced by a wide stretch of countryside and farmland surrounded on all sides by gentle sloping hills. The Viscount and the spirit alighted on the road, and started to walk down it.

"I know this place! I spent some of my childhood here!" She recognized West Hill, the first place she remembered staying in. Merrill smiled at her, and suddenly Diana was inundated with remembered sounds and odors, all connected to memories of innocence and joy. Diana felt her eyes sting.

"Are you alright, Hawke?" The spirit asked, familiarly and kindly.

"Hay fever." Diana said, choking slightly. The spirit made no reply, and they continued to walk along the road. Farmers and their horses pulled carts of women and children, all wishing each other a Happy Firstday. The sound echoed and reverberated off of the nearby hills.

"These are merely shadows, memories held in the Veil. They can't see us." For some reason that made Hawke slightly sad; though why should it? It didn't mean anything to her. She didn't care about Firstday, or these people.

Suddenly a lone child ran past them, the wind at her heels. Her hair was dark; near to black save for a glint of red here and there in the winter sun. The child ran to a nearby tree and slumped down, putting her head on her knees. She started to sob. Diana was filled with the overwhelming desire to comfort the poor thing.

"You recognize this child." Merrill said. It was not a question.

"It's me. Much younger. I remember..." But it wasn't just herself that she remembered. There was a boy, actually several boys, who had depended on the kindness of a mage to take care of them. And Hawke had done nothing at the time to help them out. Did they cry like her younger self? She wished she had helped them then, and told the spirit so. Merrill merely smiled, in that very elfish way.

"There's more."

Now there were more people running; a dark-haired man was making his way towards the child with incredible speed. Close on his heels was a woman dragging two smaller children behind her; a boy and a girl with black hair who struggled mightily to keep up. The small girl was practically crying as well, while the boy looked angry. The man skidded to a stop when he saw the crying child under the tree. He went down on one knee besides her, his arm around her back. The other three came cautiously towards the man and child, the woman hugging the smaller ones to her.

"My family..." Diana murmured. "I was angry. We just found out Bethany was a mage, and father told us that we would have to move. I didn't want to leave. West Hills was all I knew at the time. I was so young."

"And this was when you started running?" Merrill asked.

"Yes." Diana said, still staring at the family grouped together, supporting each other. "We never stopped; not after that. It was possible to stay in one place for a while when it was just my dad, but with two mages... I hated Bethany for the longest time."

"Bethany was a sweet girl."

"I won't argue with you on that. I forgave her eventually."

"And you stayed together as a family."

"Yes." Diana said simply.

"We should see another Firstday." The Spirit of Firstdays Past put her hand on Diana's shoulder and in a moment the scene had shifted to outside a small cottage. The same sobbing child had transformed into a nearly grown woman. She was still weeping, but this time it was over the body of the adult man.

"Spirit... no..." Diana said, nearly in tears along with her younger self. "My father."

"You have to see." Suddenly young Diana stood up from from her father's body and wiped her tears with her sleeve.

"Mother!" The girl shouted loudly, her voice barely wavering. The woman came running out of the small cottage. She took one look at the body on the ground and fell to her knees with a howl. The girl knelt down besides her mother, and the two mourned together.

"Your father died on Firstday." Merrill said. "And you found him."

"I did." Diana said, staring at her composed younger self. "From that moment, it was up to me to take care of the family. I knew it then."

"What did you do?"

"Whatever I had to. Lie, cheat, steal. Sell my skills when I could. Sell other things when I couldn't. Kept Bethany hidden. I killed a lot of people to protect her."

"But your family was always there for you; they loved you." By now, two gangling, half-grown kids had come out of the cottage. The four of them clung together in their misery, a bulwark against the storm.

"Until they died. First Carver by that ogre. Then Bethany in the Deep Roads, and finally mother..." Diana couldn't continue. She was supposed to have been the protector, and she failed them all.

"You still have some family, is that true?" The spirit asked kindly.

"My uncle Gamlen, and my cousin Charade. Yes." Diana said, without elaborating further. The two of them walked further on, though they didn't get more than five steps before they left the countryside altogether; Diana was surprised to find herself back in Kirkwall. It was a dirty, dingy part of town, though Diana knew from experience that it wasn't the worst part of the city. They were outside a building where a dead man hung over the door. It wasn't a real corpse, or at Diana really hoped that it wasn't, but it was difficult to tell.

"You recognize this place?" The elfish spirit asked.

"Of course I recognize it! If you were actually Merrill, you would know better than to ask that question. I spent my first years in Kirkwall practically living here." They crossed the threshold without opening the door. They found themselves inside a bustling tavern, packed to the gills with people. The bartender looked a bit surly but was pouring drinks with lightning speed. In the center of the room, standing on a table was a tall dark-skinned woman wearing an obscene amount of gold jewelry. Diana cried out in excitement.

"It's Isabela! She's here, in Kirkwall!"

Isabela was laughing infectiously as patrons flocked around her. Suddenly she spotted something over in the corner.

"Hawke! Kitten! Come here!" She crowed, waving her arms frantically. The Rivaini's eyes followed movement through the crowd; when it came close to her she reached down and pulled up two familiar figures. The first was Diana, younger, but much more recognizable. The second was a slight elf girl who resembled the ghost standing next to the older Hawke.

"Merrill. The elf who's form you stole." Diana accused the spirit. If it felt remorse for it's actions, it did not show it. It only continued to watch the three women on the table. Isabela had flung her arms around the two of them. Merrill's eyes were shiny with excitement at the crowd, while young Diana just looked uncomfortable.

"When is this?" The Viscount asked, slightly confused.

"You are not yet Champion."

"Next round's on me!" Isabela shouted, to the approval of the crowd. From her boot, she pulled out a few gold coins and tossed them to the nearest server. Around the room, others were popping up onto tables, including a beardless dwarf, a feathered mage, and an elf covered in lyrium tattoos.

"Oh! There's Varric! And Anders and Fenris!" Diana cried, pointing at the people on the tables. "Surely Aveline and Sebastian would be here as well?" Sure enough, as Diana scanned the crowd, she spotted the redheaded guard and the Chantry Brother's white armor. The dwarf, Varric, started to sing from the table; an old drinking song. He was soon joined by Isabela, and from somewhere else came the sound of a lute. A few of the people on the floor started to dance, as difficult as that was with the large press of people. Isabela grabbed both of Merrill's hands and started to twirl her about, forcing Diana to get down. The white-haired elf watched her descent, and leapt down off of his own table. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. The young Diana smiled when she saw him, and the two of the started dancing along with everyone else. The party jigged, gavotted, cavorted, and waltzed to the music in between mugs of ale, and at the center of it all was the Rivaini pirate.

A fight broke out between two men; a girl stood off to the side shouting for them to stop, but they just kept shoving and swinging their fists at each other. Isabela caught sight of them, and somersaulted off the table. She came up between the two men, daggers drawn and held at their throats. That stopped the fighting. Isabela grinned and removed the daggers, calling for more ale as she did so. The entire party laughed and continued dancing until the wee hours of the morning. Isabela, Fenris, Anders, Varric, Merrill, Aveline, Sebastian, and the not-yet Champion were the last ones left. They sprawled out over the chairs and tables; heedless of the mess, tired, yet oh-so-satisfied.

"A small matter. To make everyone so happy."

"Small!" Diana echoed. The spirit shushed her so they could listen to the friends extol the virtues of Isabela, who was sprawled out over one of the tables, drinking in the compliments.

"Why not? Isabela didn't spend that much money; most of it wasn't hers to begin with. Why do you all heap so much praise on her?"

"It isn't that at all;" Diana said, in her mind the same young adventurer at a Firstday party. "Isabela pretended to be selfish, but she was always generous to those who needed it. So many small actions, like buying other people's drinks, or cutting the tension with a stupid joke. There were times when the only reason my companions didn't kill each other, and everyone around them was because Isabela made them forget why they were fighting. She loved people. She treated everyone as an equal." Diana paused and glanced at the spirit. Merrill's eyes had an odd look to them.

"What's the matter?" the spirit asked.

"Isabela... she and my manservant were good friends. I should like to speak with him about her. That's all."

"What happened to her?"

"I gave her to the Arishok. I didn't want a war." Diana looked away from the spirit, directly at the laughing pirate.

"But you said she was the one who kept everyone at peace."

"I did say that. Sometimes I wonder if Anders would have done what he did if..." Diana looked pleadingly at the spirit, as if to make her change it all. The spirit shook her head, and grabbed Diana's arm again.

"Quickly. We haven't got a lot of time." Merrill said, and once again the scenery changed as the words were spoken. This time they found themselves in Hawke's mansion, unaltered but much cleaner. It was dark and the bells were tolling midnight. The white-haired elf was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. As the final bell died away, a younger Diana sat upright with a start. She blinked in the dim light, finally resting on the back of the elf.

"Fenris?" Younger Diana's voice was soft and gentle. The elf grunted. "What's wrong?"

"I'm leaving." Fenris said in a low gravelly voice.

"What?"

"You aren't the woman I fell in love with Diana. I can't stay and watch you disappear."

"What are you talking about, Fenris? I'm still here."

"But you aren't the same. I fell in love with a person who cared about family and friends, and very little for money and power. Now you seem to care about little else."

"I am merely trying to improve the prospects of Kirkwall; this city is in dire straits."

"With draconian measures. The templars have taken over everything, no one has any privacy. You know I'm not a big fan of mages, but you're worse then even Knight-Commander Meredith. I don't recognize you any more."

"But I still love you. That hasn't changed." She pleaded, but Fenris merely shook his head. "You don't believe me?"

"You care too much for power. I'm an elf, a second-class citizen and a former slave to boot. We met when we were both young and poor. If you met me on the street today, could you honestly fall in love with me?"

"You think I couldn't?"

"I think you'd throw me in jail, or have me killed. At the very least you wouldn't let me stay in my former master's house in Hightown." Fenris stood up. "Goodbye Viscount. I hope your title makes you happy." With that, he exited the room, leaving young Diana alone in her large bed. She put her head in her hands and wept.

"Spirit!" The older Diana cried. "No more. I can't take it!" The Spirit of Firstdays Past smiled sadly at Hawke.

"Sleep now." Merrill said and started to fade in front of Diana's eyes. Or maybe the spirit was as solid as before, and it was only that Diana's vision that was cloudy.

She blinked her eyes once. The spirit was gone, and the Champion of Kirkwall was back in her own bed. She leaned back down, and was fast asleep before her head hit the pillows.


	3. Stave 3

It was still dark when Hawke awoke next. The bells were chiming the hour, slowly and inexorably up to twelve. This time though Diana was ready for anything, so it came as a great shock when nothing happened. Five minutes, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour went by and yet nothing came. Diana was wide awake and couldn't bear to be in the dark room anymore. She lit a candle and went wandering in the halls. Right away, she noticed a strange light coming from her mother's room. Diana was angry about the intrusion; no one had been in the room since Leandra died. She turned back to retrieve her daggers from her room when she heard a voice calling her name. She took a deep breath and opened the door for the first time in years.

It no longer looked like her mother's room. In fact, it looked surprisingly like a room at the Hanged Man. In the middle stood a jolly-looking dwarf. Unlike most dwarfs, he lacked a beard; instead he boasted a prodigious amount of chest hair. He carried with him a large crossbow.

"Alright, I know you aren't Varric, but you are doing a fantastic impression of him."

"I am the Spirit of Firstday Present. You have never seen the like of me before." the dwarf said. Unlike the Spirit of Firstday Past, the Present could have been flesh-and-blood; he had no glow about him at all.

"No? You do look awfully familiar." Despite the fact that it wasn't actually Varric, Diana felt comfortable around this spirit; less in awe of him than the one who took Merrill's form.

"You may have met my brothers."

"Do you have a lot of them?"

"Well over two thousand at this point." He said cheerfully.

"Well you certainly spin bullshit like Varric." She joked. Despite the lack of height, the dwarf managed to look down at the rogue, and Diana realized she had gone to far. With a chagrined tone; "Spirit, conduct me where you will. If you have anything to teach me, I am willing to learn."

"Touch my coat, and we'll be off." he said. A jest formed in Diana's mind, but she left it unsaid as she followed his instructions.

The room at the Hanged Man vanished instantly, leaving them standing in the streets on Firstday morning where the people performed a rushed, hurried dance as they made their way through the snow. People from their house were shoveling snow off of their front steps or their roofs, to the delight of the children below. The weather was gloomy for Kirkwall winter; the sky was overcast, and a dingy mist hung low in the air. It was not the most cheerful climate, yet the air was filled with joy.

For it was the people who colored the atmosphere – there was a bounce in the step of those traveling, wishing one another a happy Firstday. Shovelers shouted cheerfully and launched snowballs at passerbys. There were still a few shops open, and the merchants were hawking their wares with glee. At one point a fight broke out over two destitute people carrying food for their dinner and the Spirit of Firstday Present lowered his crossbow and shot an arrow that passed through them both. It did not harm them, instead their good humor was instantly restored. They disappeared back into the crowd, and joy returned to the streets.

"Spirit, what manner of weaponry is that?" Diana asked.

"My own. To apply to anyone in need of a little cheer, especially the poor." he said, patting the crossbow fondly.

"A strange weapon indeed."

The two of them continued walking the streets of Kirkwall, and through the spirit's seemingly random meanderings they ended up in front of a dilapidated old house. Varric shot his crossbow through the house, and then went inside. Diana paused for a moment before following him in.

"Where are we, spirit?"

"Why, the home of your manservant, Bodhan Feddic." Varric said, surprised, as if Diana should have known.

There was only one person in the house at the moment, a female dwarf garbed in a well-worn but expertly mended dress. She was busy cooking up a storm, though the quantities were meager. The dwarf stayed as close to the stove as possible; the rest of the house was barely warmer than the air outside.

"Fulla, we're home!" came a shout from behind Diana, and she whirled around to see her manservant coming through the door with his son, Sandal. Both wore enormous grins on their faces.

"Enchantment!" was Sandal's contribution.

"And just where have the two of you been?" the woman scolded good-naturedly.

"Out enjoying the weather, Fulla. Is dinner ready?" Bodhan asked. Fulla grunted.

"Only if you'll set the table. I've been far too busy cooking."

Bodhan pulled Sandal out into the dining room and together the two of them set the table. Bodhan would hand Sandal a plate or utensil and direct him to the spot. It was a slow process, but Sandal seemed to enjoy helping out immensely.

"I never realized Bodhan had a wife." Diana said.

"He doesn't. Fulla owns this place and Bodhan and Sandal board here. She's the one who takes care of Sandal during the day. It's possible she wants to be something more to Bodhan, but he's never really taken notice."

By now the the table was set, and Fulla was bringing out the meal. It was paltry – barely enough to feed one person, let alone three, but Bodhan and Sandal looked as if they had never seen such a feast. With a flourish, Fulla revealed the main dish, a small, grayish nug roast, covered with onions and sage. Bodhan proclaimed it the most well cooked nug he'd ever seen, and Fulla flushed with pride. He set about carving the roast, and all of them set about the task of eating.

They made short work of the meal, and somehow proclaimed themselves satisfied. Fulla disappeared into the kitchen once more, and came back with a covered dish. She set it down on the table and lifted the lid to reveal a hot, steaming pudding.

"Enchantment!" Sandal cried, clapping his hands excitedly.

"Happy Firstday, everyone!" Bodhan said, raising a mug in his hand.

"Enchantment!" Sandal echoed.

"To Diana Hawke, the Founder of the Feast!"

"Founder of the Feast indeed." Fulla snorted. "I wish she was here so I could giver her a piece of my mind."

"Fulla, please."

"She treats you abominably and you know it. Does she even care about what happens to you and Sandal anymore? Even after she begged you not to go to Orlais."

"Fulla, please, it's Firstday."

"Fine. I'll be nice today. A long happy life to Diana Hawke." She said sarcastically, downing her own drink. Sandal drank nothing at all, but a sad look crossed his face.

Varric and Diana left the tiny, dingy house, with Diana much subdued. By now it was dark, with only the glow from the street lamps and fireplaces to light the way. Few people were out on the street now. They passed through Darktown, Hightown, Lowtown, the Alienage and the docks, and everywhere, people were assembled together to celebrate. The crewmen on the ships had their own feast, primarily consisting of freshly caught fish. They walked to a lookout point – in the distant Sundermount, they could see the flicker of campfire lights as even bandits and Dalish were honoring the day. Soon they found themselves back in Lowtown, this time in front of a very familiar hovel. Diana was surprised to hear a hearty female laugh from inside, and even more surprised when she realized it was her cousin Charade. She and ghost-Varric went inside, and saw the house packed with people, and lit brighter than Diana had ever seen it.

"And then she basically said that celebrating Firstday was ridiculous. She was as bad as you used to be father." Charade said, nudging Gamlen with her arm.

"I always knew Diana was trouble." Gamlen grumbled. "From the moment she walked into Kirkwall."

"Well, I for one feel kind of sorry for her. If she won't even let you and me in, who suffers from it but her?"

"The entirety of the city." There were nods of agreement all around the party – many of them had felt the sting of the guards under Diana's rule.

"But will it really? This city doesn't change; not for long. All that Diana has done is make it tougher on people for a little while and make them really angry. The city will find a way back to normal, and poor cousin will end up with her head on a platter. It's not a pleasant way to go." The assembled party was happy to agree with the charismatic girl, though most were as equally quick to say that they themselves would never perform the final deed.

"What I mean to say," Diana's cousin continued, "was that maybe things would be better for everyone and especially Hawke if she would only let people in. The more she shuts us out, the less she understands people and the more unpleasant she gets. I pity her for that. But today is Firstday, and every year I will continue to hope for improvement." She raised her glass high in a mock-toast. Gamlen joined her while the rest of the party laughed. They drank to Hawke, and passed around the bottle to refill glasses.

What followed was dancing and singing, simple songs, and reminiscent of the ones Diana heard in the Hanged Man, so long ago in time, but so recent in her memories. If only she had more of such memories but alas, they all ended with Isabela's sacrifice. Gamlen had a surprisingly good bass voice, one that Diana was wholly unfamiliar with. The way he directed it at Charade with all the fond pride of a good father was something she never expected to see in her life, and it made her miss her own parents more.

After awhile, Gamlen begged some other pursuit, since his voice was getting tired, so they started playing at games. Blind Man's Bluff was the first, and Diana noticed that one lad in particular would only go after her cousin. A protective feeling welled up inside of her, but Charade did not discourage the boy, and Diana quickly remembered that her cousin could easily take care of herself when she so chose. After that, there was a game of Twenty Questions, and by that time, Diana was so caught up in the goings-on that she played along, loudly and correctly guessing the answers long before the other guests. The spirit wearing Varric's form watched fondly from the side.

"Alright." Charade said. "Here's one for you."

The guessing began anew. From the questions posed by the guests they figured out that it was a live animal, a disagreeable, dangerous animal, one that growled and grunted, and occasionally spoke. It lived in Kirkwall, but it was no one's pet. It walked on two legs, and though it may be considered a bird, it did not fly. At this point every question brought to Charade was met with a giggle, she was very pleased with her own cleverness. Finally the lad who had shown a great deal of interest in Charade started laughing as well.

"I know, I know, It's your cousin! Diana Hawke!" He cried. Charade nodded, and the rest of the party applauded the brilliant deduction. At this point, Diana turned to the spirit. He was looking old and worn out – he seemed to have aged thirty years in the last hour.

"What's wrong Varric?"

"My time is very short – my life ends tonight."

"Tonight!"

"Such is the way of the Present; it is always but a fleeting moment."

"How very poetic." Diana mumbled, but then she noticed something. "Varric, is it just me, or do I see shadows behind you?"

"What, these?" The Spirit of Firstday Present stepped aside, and the shadows solidified. "A reminder, Hawke. It's been a while since you've faced one directly, but they walk with you always." There were five figures, each a demon form – there was the naked purple desire demon, the flaming rage demon, the slow and ponderous sloth demon, the cadaverous hunger demon, and the terrifyingly large pride demon.

"Beware of them, Hawke. They may be creatures of the Fade, but they exist in every man."

The bells struck twelve. Varric and the demons were gone. As the last stroke tolled, she saw yet another spirit, armored and magnificent, coming slowly towards her.


	4. Stave 4

The Phantom approached, and Hawke knelt before it. The spirit was more transparent than any that had come before it, and it's face was covered by a blocky helm. The eye slit glowed blue. Diana fell to her knees.

"Are you the Spirit of Firstdays Yet-to-Come?" she said, looking up at the large spirit.

"_In a way_." It intoned. "_You know me by a different name, but it matters not." _The voice was familiar, but this did not give Diana comfort, for the voice brought with it the memory of an explosion.

"Are you to show me what will happen?" She asked, trembling. The spirit inclined it's head as it's only answer. Diana got slowly to her feet, her fear making it all the more difficult. But the spirit, in unforeseen kindness, made no move to rush her.

"Lead on." she said, as bravely as she could manage. It was daytime again, as they walked through the city. Not much had changed, she noted, not even the weather. The Spirit led her on towards a group of guardsmen.

"I heard she died last night." Said one, looking over his shield with interest. The news that some woman had died seemed to hold very little interest to him.

"So did I. Anyone know who did it?" asked the second.

"Nope." said a third, this one a small elven female. "But there's a lot of suspects." There was a collective groan from the group.

"The captain's going to make us investigate isn't she?"

"Probably." This was met by another groan.

"Why? It's not like anyone is really going to care who did it." The female said. The one who was cleaning his shield made a noise of disgust and held it out to be examined by the other guards. Soon the conversation turned to the merits of different kinds of shields and the Spirit moved on, with Hawke following behind. The next group they came across was couple of nobles, some of the ones that Hawke tried to get in good favor with, if only because it caused her fewer headaches to keep them happy.

"Looks like there's another mansion in Hightown up for sale."

"Let's hope it won't be bought by some jumped-up riff-raff."

"Happy Firstday to you."

"Same to you." And that was the extent of their conversation. Diana was starting to wonder why the Spirit felt the need to pause on these moments, but she felt sure there was some hidden purpose to it all, so she wracked her brain trying to figure out what it could be.

The spirit moved on. They walked towards Darktown, and then down to the sewers. Down underneath the streets lay the black market, where the filthiest and least scrupulous merchants peddled their wares. Many feet under the main city, lit only by a single candle, one of the merchants was busy going over goods brought in by several elves.

"Where did you three come by such an embarrassment of riches?" Asked the pawnbroker.

"It's all legit." said one when the other two wouldn't speak. "At least it might as well be. No one will care about a dead woman's stuff."

"Especially not this dead woman." Added one of the others.

"Are these the sheets off of her bed?" asked the merchant, who was pawing through some dark and heavy fabric.

"Aye." said the third elf. "She won't be missing them."

"They aren't blood-stained, are they?" He asked skeptically, examining the sheets carefully.

"She didn't die in bed." Said the third elf, shrugging.

"Good. You didn't by any chance steal the clothes off of her back too?"

"Why would I? Those are ruined."

Diana listened to the dialog in minor disgust. Not that she had always been above looting corpses, but in the intervening years the act had become completely reprehensible in her mind. The merchant gave a shake of one dark sheet, and Diana found herself and the Spirit in the Chantry of Kirkwall. The Spirit led Diana down an empty hallway to a darkened cell. There was an alter in the middle of the cell, upon which lay a body covered in a white sheet. From the way that it was draped, the body was clearly that of a woman, tall and human. The Spirit of Firstdays Yet-to-Come pointed a gauntleted finger at the corpse. A flick of Diana's hand would reveal the face of the deceased, but as curious as she was, she could not bring herself to reveal the woman's identity. But one thing was abundantly clear – this woman was rich, recognized, and hated. No one mourned her, her death was apparently a relief to all. It was a sad way to end a life.

"Spirit, I do not like it here. But I know why you brought me. Can we go please?" The Spirit said nothing, only continued to point at the dead woman. "Please. This vision haunts me. Is there no one who mourns? Truly mourns?"

The Phantom nodded significantly and turned to walk out of the room. He opened the door of the cell to reveal Bodhan's home.

Inside, Bodhan was sitting by a dying fire, weeping softly. He was turning a runic stone over and over in his hands. In the dim light, Fulla came up behind him and rubbed his back, which only caused him to break down more.

"Sandal... Sandal..." He keened. Fulla said nothing, only continued to stay near him. Bodhan turned towards her and threw himself in her open arms. She held him as if he was a babe while he cried inconsolably.

"Spirit, tell me, has Sandal died?" The Spirit nodded once. "It can't be, He was such a gentle soul!" Diana cried. The spirit put a hand on her shoulder and turned her away from the grieving dwarfs. Diana was too caught up to pay attention to where they were going.

"Spirit?" she asked after a moment. "You showed me what I asked, but what of the dead woman?" The Spirit pointed forward. She followed his hand with her gaze to see a graveyard in front of them. She was suddenly filled with a sense of dread. "What shall I find here?"

The Spirit continued to point, much to the frustration of Diana.

"Why? Why won't you speak to me! Tell me what all this is for!" She railed. She felt for her daggers, and only then remembered that she was still in her night-clothes and therefore didn't have them on her. In her anger she rushed at the Spirit and began to beat on it's armor plating with her fists. The Spirit didn't move an inch.

Finally spent, she resigned herself to following the Spirit's nonverbal direction. It was pointing at one particular headstone over an open grave. With much trepidation Diana went to examine it. She stumbled back in horror when she saw what was written upon it. DIANA HAWKE.

"No, Spirit! No, it can't be!"

The Spirit of Firstdays Yet-To-Come pointed between the headstone and Diana.

"Please Spirit, tell me if this is unchangeable! I don't want to die like this, alone and hated. Please! I will do anything, I promise!"

The Spirit was starting to glow an even brighter blue.

"I will honor Firstday, and keep it in my heart always! I will remember that people need hope, and laughter. They need mercy. I shall remember my Past, Present and Future. Tell me, can I change my fate?"

There was a flash of blinding blue light; Diana threw up her hands over her face. When the light retreated, she was back in her own bed.


	5. Stave 5

Everything was the way it should, all of her things were there, and she was alive, and had the time.

"Thank the Maker!" Diana said, scrambling out of the covers. "Oh Anders, and Spirits! Thank you for this." She was scrambling, trying to get into some semblance of real clothes, but her fingers fumbled with the buckles and the buttons, and she kept trying to put things on upside-down and inside-out. She laughed out loud at her own ineptness, a sound unheard of in that room for a very long time. It was a splendid laugh, one that Isabela would have been proud of.

"What day is it?" She said, out loud and alone with her thoughts. Surely it was several days past; she had no idea how long she had been in and out of the Fade. She ran to the open window and looked down into the street. Right below her was an elven child.

"What's today?" She called down to the boy.

"What?" The child looked around himself, trying to figure out if the oddly jovial Viscount was actually speaking to him.

"What day is today?" She asked, speaking more slowly and clearly. The boy looked at her like she was insane.

"It's Firstday." He replied.

"Firstday?" she echoed to herself. "Then I haven't missed anything. The Spirits came in one night. Anders lied!" She laughed to herself. "Of course he did. Boy!" She called back to the elf, who had turned to walk away again.

"Yes?"

"Do you know the dwarf who sells nugs?"

"Yes." The boy made a face.

"Good. Tell you what, I'll give you the money to buy the biggest nug you can get, and I'll give you a gold piece to deliver it to me." She thought for a moment and then added. "Two if you do it in less than five minutes." She threw down a small pouch of gold, and the elf was off like a shot. She really hoped the boy did as she asked, although she had to say she didn't really care at this point. If he took the money entirely, she could always make the errand herself.

But the boy was as good as his word, and before five minutes was up, he was back, dragging an overly large nug by the leg. Diana was so enthralled by his industry, that she tipped him three gold pieces. She slung the nug over her back, and took off in the streets.

It was like the Spirit of Firstday Present had showed her, with people shouting tidings to each other, and the air was full of joy and hope, even in Kirkwall. Many stopped and stared at the Viscount carrying a nug, who greeted everyone with a ridiculous smile on her face. Her first stop was in Lowtown. She set the nug down in the snow, and knocked on the door. It flew open to reveal Charade, who looked very much surprised to see Diana there.

"Hello coz!" Diana said, throwing her arms around her stunned cousin. "Happy Firstday!"

"Diana! What are you doing here?" She seemed pleased, if confused.

"I just wanted to let you know that I plan on coming to dinner tonight. I have a few more errands to run, but I'll be here. Is there anything I should bring?"

"Just yourself, Hawke – although we certainly wouldn't turn anything down. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Diana finally let go of her cousin. "I'll see you later tonight!" She picked up the nug again, and walked back into the street, with Charade just staring after her, dumbfounded.

On her way to her next stop, she ran into Aveline and Sebastian, who were arguing about something. They stopped when they saw her coming.

"Hello you two. Happy Firstday!" she called out to them. With one hand, she felt around her person for a medium sack of coins. "I have something for you; to help out the refugees." She deposited the sack into Aveline's hands.

"Thank you Hawke!" Aveline said. She opened up the sack and gasped at the large amount of gold inside.

"If it's not enough, just let me know. Oh," she added. "can you pass the word along to the templars and mages that I have some ideas to improve the situation in the Gallows? Even they should have a happy Firstday." Sebastian just stared at her with wide eyes. Aveline was quicker, saluting the Champion with a happy grin. Diana passed them, and went on to Darktown, to a house that was now very familiar to her.

She knocked on the door, and it was answered by a female dwarf.

"Might you be Fulla?" she asked.

"Yes, Viscount. Are you looking for Bodhan? He's with Sandal at the moment, since you said he could have the day off." Her tone was accusatory.

"That's perfectly alright. I just wanted to drop something off for him. And you actually." She slung the nug off her back, and shoved it towards Fulla. "I hope this will be large enough for Firstday dinner."

"It will be large enough for several dinners." She said, eying the nug with unconcealed greedy delight. "Why don't you come in?"

"I can't, not for long. I have another engagement. But can you let Bodhan know that I'm giving him a raise? And if there's anything I can do for Sandal, will he let me know?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" said a gruff voice from behind Fulla. She stepped aside to reveal Bodhan and Sandal. Diana whooped loudly.

"Bodhan! Happy Firstday! I just wanted to apologize for the way I've treated you. I want to make it up to you. Will you let me?"

"I suppose I might. The nug is a good start. How much of a raise?" he asked. Diana named a figure, one that made Bodhan blush with excitement.

"Messere, that's far to much."

"Not enough, in my opinion, but I have other things that need my money at the moment."

"Yes messere."

"Bodhan, we've known each other for years. You may call me Diana." she bowed low before him. "Now I really must be off. Happy Firstday, Fulla, Bodhan, Sandal. I'll see you all later. Don't come into work too early Bodhan." With that she turned on her heels and left.

"What do you think of that Sandal?" The dwarf asked his son once she was out of sight.

"Enchantment!" Sandal said. And it was indeed.


End file.
